Starsign:Cancer
by Smileyfaceofevil
Summary: Almost Twilight and My Sister’s Keeper Jodi Picoult crossover, except all Twilight characters. Don’t need to have read My Sister’s Keeper. Basic plot summary inside. AH, AU. Warning: probably a sad ending.
1. Chapter 1

_**I know. I promised. Hexannual Cullen Games updates first, but this popped into my head and I couldn't get it out. If you really don't like it I'll take it down and update my other stories. But I think this one has potential. I really do. **_

**Almost Twilight and My Sister's Keeper (Jodi Picoult) crossover, except all Twilight characters. Don't need to have read My Sister's Keeper. Basic plot summary inside. AH, AU. **

**Esme and Carlisle have five children, all one year apart. With their youngest just starting at school, Esme's gone back to work as an interior decorator, Emmett's nine, Rosalie's eight, Jasper's seven, Edward's six and Alice's five. However, a blow is dealt to this 'perfect' family when Edward is diagnosed with leukaemia, and only one of his four siblings is a genetic match. First few chapters are a basic overview of life thus far, and the rest of the story is set when Edward is fifteen, Alice fourteen, Jasper sixteen, Rose seventeen and Emmett eighteen. **

**Story explains itself as it goes on. Different POV per chapter.**

**Note: for those who have read My Sister's Keeper, there is no courtcase. Also, there are no romantic relationships between J&A or R&Em. There are no plans for Bella to appear as anything but a minor character. **

**Now, on with the story:**

Carlisle: 29

Esme: 29

Emmett: 8

Rose: 7

Jasper: 6

Edward: 5

Alice: 4

CPOV:

Of all my children, Edward was the most accident prone. Perhaps that makes him sound clumsy, and that's not fair, because he was never a clumsy or maladroit child, but bad luck stuck to him like metal to a magnet, and in any sort of fight or accident he was always worst off.

All my vivid childhood memories which I regard with fondness and tried to replicate with my own children, Edward managed to muck up. Again, that makes it sound like it was his fault, but honestly it wasn't. For example, a good memory of mine is going for a walk with my father and cousin, Emma, it was a long walk along a steep track which ended in a small flat verge covered in short grass and surrounded by flowers.

I found a similar track here in Forks and when Emmett and Jasper were seven and five I packed a picnic basket and we did the walk. Two years later I repeated it with Rose and Edward. One section of the track runs just below a ridge, and while one side is a wall, gently sloping grass heading up to the ridge top, the other side is a sheer drop, to a valley maybe a hundred metres down.

Rose and Edward ran ahead, about thirty metres in front; the track was quite wide so I wasn't worried. The track was dirt, but it hadn't rained for a few days so it wasn't slippery. However, on the very edge was a layer of mud and leaves and this was as slippery as heck, so I encouraged Rosalie and Edward to stay away from the edge. Of course they stayed away from the cliff face anyway, but I was a worrying father.

"Rosalie," I remember yelling, "Don't wear yourself out, we've got another twenty minutes of walking to do."

"Yes, Dad," she called back over her shoulder. "Edward and I are playing tag."

She reached out to tag Edward, and he dodged close to the hem of the track, and his shoe hit the rim of mud and leaves. He slipped, his stomach hitting the path with a thud and, flailing, he fell off the side.

My stomach twisted sickeningly and my breath caught in my throat. I swore my heart stopped beating as my five year old son tumbled off a cliff face. "Edward!" Rose screamed, then "Dad! Dad!" but I was already running. This was my youngest son, my little boy.

The picnic basket I'd been carrying slipped out of my hand, my eyes blurred with tears. Then, panting slightly, I screeched to a halt beside Rosalie. She lay flat on her stomach, both hands clutching her brother's wrist as he dangled in thin air. If not for her quick thinking, Edward would have fallen to his death, one hundred metres below. I knew Rose couldn't hold Edward for long, and I knelt beside her. I leant over the edge of the path and stretched down, my hands grabbing my son's side. Then I heaved him up and stumbled backwards, pulling Rose to her feet with one hand.

I stood leaning against the grass on the other side of the track, gasping and hugging both my children to me. "Rose, Rose, thank God for you," I murmured, "Are you alright, darling?"

"I'm fine," Rosalie whispered, her voice muffled against my shirt.

"Edward," I said, gently shaking him a little, "Edward, are you okay?"

"Dad," he said, but he didn't answer my question.

"Edward, tell me, are you hurt?"

"No, no I'm not. I'm sorry, Dad."

"It's okay. It was just an accident. Just an accident," I repeated to myself. "Do you- do you want to go on?"

"No," Edward said, his voice small. "I want to go home."

"Me too," Rose agreed. "Home."

"Home," I breathed, repeating Rose. "Okay, let's turn around." We walked back up the trail, past the abandoned picnic basket, and I didn't stop to pick it up. I was too busy cradling Edward and Rosalie to my side, putting myself between them and the drop and silently thanking God for the miracle that had just occurred.

When we reached home that day, Emmett, Jasper and Alice were playing a game on the front lawn, Esme stood by the steps of our house watching them, one hand shielding her face against the sun. When she saw us pull up the driveway, her face lit up and she jogged across the lawn to meet us.

"Hey," she called as we piled out of the car. "How was it?"

Then she caught sight of my face. "Honey, what happened?" Her eyes darted from me looking over the children. Edward had a couple of leaves tangled in his bronze hair, mud coated his shoes, pants and shirt and he had a graze up one arm and on his face. Rose's t-shirt was covered in mud and dirt, but other then that she was fine. They were both fine. "They're all right, they're fine." I voice, staring at Esme's worried face. She knew from my tone not to press questions. She sent them off to have showers and get changed.

"I'm glad they're all right," she said, meeting my gaze, "but are you?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, really I am."

Later that night, after we'd tucked the kids in, Esme and I were sitting in the lounge. "I was so scared," I admitted.

"Why?" Esme said, confused. "When?" I recounted the tale of the day to her, shuddering at the memories, then apologizing profoundly for losing her picnic basket.

I never went to get that basket and I never took Alice on that walk. Maybe that was a little unfair of me, but whenever someone mentioned Jenna's Trail I immediately got the image of Edward falling, and my heart would skip a beat and my stomach would twist. At the time, that was the worst thing I could imagine happening. In a matter of months, I would only be able to envision much worse.

**So, did you like it? Takes place in the house the Cullen's reside in in Twilight. Anyway, please review. Please. Pretty please...**


	2. Chapter 2

ESMEPOV

Carlisle: 30

Esme: 30

Emmett: 9

Rosalie: 8

Jasper: 7

Edward: 6

Alice: 5

Two memories stick in my head when anyone mentions 1997. First, the day we noticed a bruise on Edward's arm and secondly, the day he was diagnosed with leukaemia. Edward had had his sixth birthday in early July and it was the first week of Autumn, Friday, September the fifth.

The weather was just cooling down enough for the weather to be a guessing game, and the boys had cautiously dressed themselves for warm weather. At the dinner table the boys were lined up on one side, Carlisle at the foot of the table, then Emmett, Jasper and Edward along one side. I was next to Edward, but at the head of the table. On my other side was Rosalie, next to her was little Alice, tottering cautiously on a small pile of cushions.

"Rosalie," Emmett said, "Potatoes, would you?"

Carlisle rolled his eyes. "Emmett, left you manners in you room again?"

"Huh? Oh, um, Rose, would you pass the potatoes, please."

"Sure," Rose shrugged, passing the potatoes to me. I passed them on and eventually the reached Emmett.

"Um, could I have the butter now?" he said, grinning sheepishly. "Mom? Rose? Could you _please_ pass the butter?"

"It's margarine, actually," Rose muttered picking up the container. She handed it to me and Edward reached out to take it when I saw something bluish glint on his upper arm.

"Hey," I said, putting the margarine down. "Honey, what's that on your arm?"

"Who, me?" Edward says, twisting his arms so he can see them. "Huh. It's a bruise. Maybe I banged it on my desk or something."

The bruise was quite big, maybe the size of a bar of soap, but more circular. It would nearly have been a big as your average roll of duct tape. It looked a few days old, but all the kids had been decked out in school clothes so I hadn't noticed it.

Carlisle looked up from his dinner, frowning. "Come here, Edward," he beckoned, tapping the table next to him. Edward slipped out of his chair –dropping his fork on the floor in the process- and walked over to his father. Carlisle put one hand on his son's shoulder and the other on his elbow and held Edward's arm closer to his eyes. "That's some bruise, pet, how'd you get it?"

Edward shrugged slightly awkwardly, twisting his arm out of his father's grip. "I don't remember." He said.

"Did Emmett or Jasper hit you? Or Rose?"

"No," Edward scowled.

"Was it someone at school?"

"Jeez, Dad," Edward said. "Why do you always assume stuff?"

"School only started on Monday," Emmett added. "Who'd beat on a six year old, anyway?"

"I told you, I think I banged it." Edward muttered.

Carlisle shrugged. "I was just asking, Edward, and five days is plenty of time to get beaten up in. Don't sit down yet! Two minutes." Carlisle paused and then gently prodded the bruise. "Did that hurt?"

Edward shook his head. "Didn't feel a thing, Daddy." It was amazing how my children could go from sulky teenage-like characters to childish imps in the blink of an eye.

"Right, well, this time?" Carlisle pressed his thumb down, firmly but not enough to hurt a child.

"Ow!" Edward shrieked, pulling backwards and looking close to tears. "Ow, ow, ow! That _really_ hurt."

"Hey, hey, I'm sorry," Carlisle said, reaching out to hug his son. "That should'nt have hurt that much, Edward."

"Well it _did_." Edward snapped defensively, ignoring his father and stomping back to his seat. I glanced around, everyone except Edward had finished, and he only had half a potato to go.

"C'mon, Rose, Jasper, it's your turn to clear the table. Alice, do you want to help me make dessert?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Alice squealed, bouncing on the three cushions that propped her up to table height. "Trifle! Cake! Ice cream! Crayons!"

"Crayons aren't dessert," Emmett snickered as I headed to the kitchen with Rose and Jazz. "Jeez, Allie, you're meant to be five!"

"I eat crayons!" my petite daughter announced. "Purple ones taste best!"

"I hope you don't eat the ones at new entrance- year one- kindergarten." Carlisle said.

Rose giggled. "Dad, in America it goes kindergarten, then first grade all the way up to twelfth grade, yeah?"

"I don't know. I'm not a teacher."

The next morning I heard a surprised yelp coming from the children's bedrooms. I hurried down there. "Alice," I said, banging on her door. "Alice, honey, are you all right?"

"Yes, mummy," she called back, saying 'mum' was a habit she'd picked up from her father. "Rosie's helping me get dressed!"

"Rose?" I said through the door. "You okay too?"

"Yeah," Rose yelled back.

I frowned, tapping on the door to Jasper's room. "Jazz, you okay?"

"Uh, huh." Jazz called back. "I'm just getting up."

"Okay, darling, I just want to make sure you're all awake."

Emmett opened his door when he heard me coming. "Mom? What are you all worried about?"

"Did you hear that yell?" I said.

"Yeah," Emmett frowned. "It was probably just Alice or Edward or something. No one's dead, are they?"

I glared at Emmett. "Don't joke about such things. You've got soccer in half an hour and the girls have got ballet and Edward and Jasper have got swimming… you better get ready. Dad's making breakfast."

By then I'd forgotten about the yelping, so when I pushed open Edward's door I was mildly surprised to see him in his pyjama pants, twisting in front of a mirror. "Mommy," he said, gently touching a bruise on his stomach.

I frowned. "Baby, how'd this happen?"

"I don't know." Edward said, repeating last night's statement.

"Did you have a fight with Emmett or Rose?" I asked. "Did you have a nightmare and fall out of bed? Did you hit _yourself?_"

"No," Edward said, "I didn't do anything like that. I just woke up and, well, _look._"

At that moment Carlisle rushed into the room. "Esme- it was a couple of minutes back, but did you hear someone scream?"

"Yeah," I said, gesturing helplessly at Edward. "Edward screamed."

Carlisle's worried look turned to absolute horror. "Edward, _what happened?_"

"I don't know," Edward said, frustrated.

"How many bruises are there?" Carlisle asked Edward.

"Ten? Twenty?" Edward shrugged. We counted together. There was the one bruise from yesterday which had started to yellow, two on one shoulder, eight on his back, two on his left arm and thirteen on his stomach. His leg had one just below the knee.

"Twenty eight." Carlisle said. "Edward, you're not going to swimming today, okay?"

"I want to!" Edward said. "That's not fair. You can't just-"

"Yes," Carlisle interrupted, "I can."

"I'm taking you to the doctor's," I said to Edward.

"Dad's a doctor."

"Yes, but he's a surgeon. I need a GP, pet."

"Dad!" Emmett called from downstairs. "Soccer starts in ten minutes, hurry up!"

Carlisle paused, looking at me. "There won't be any GP's at the hospital. Mia's on maternity leave, Lucy's in Paris and Gordon's sick. You'll have to get an appointment for Monday or so, dear."

I nodded. "Okay. Love you, bye." I kissed his cheek and he left he room.

"Jasper," he called. "Have you got your swimming costume?"

Once Carlisle, Emmett and Jasper had left I had breakfast with Edward and the girls. We chattered on about how the week had gone and then I did the girls' hair and put Rose's in a pink snood. Alice was just starting proper ballet, but eight year old Rose had done it for four years and was preparing for her grade three exam. "What time is it?" Rose asked.

"Ten o'clock."

"Mom!" she screeched. "Alice isn't in the creative tots' class anymore- her lesson starts at ten past!"

"Shoot!" I said, "Edward, get in the car. Rose, you have the front. Alice, baby, you can finish that later, go go go!"

We arrived at the ballet studio/community hall about six minutes after Alice's class was due to start, but the teacher was still milling around chatting with parents. "Phoebe!" Rose called, waving like mad at a girl a few months older then herself.

Rose and Phoebe scooted off as Ms Watcher, the teacher, came over to me. "Good morning Mrs Cullen, how are the boys?"

"Emmett and Jazz are all good," I said. "Edward here's a bit off today, so I'm keeping him home from swimming."

"Just a cold?" Ms Watcher inquired politely.

"I hope so," I said, placing a hand on Edward's forehead. "Come on, kiddo, let's get you home."

"Goodbye, Mrs Cullen," Ms Watcher said. "Alice, Millie, Laura, Caitlyn, Joshua, Georgina, Derrick, to the dance floor! Cassidy, Rosalie, Phoebe, can you wait over there?"

Once Alice had lined up with the other children Edward and I left. As we reached the car I ruffled Edward's hair. "Hey, turn that frown upside down!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Gah! I just realised for America September is Autumn. Smacks head. Oops. Anyway, I've fixed that in the last chapter. **

**Note: I think the Seattle Children's Hospital actually exists, but I've fictionalized it a little. **

**ALSO: Leukaemia is the British spelling and Leukemia is the American. I think I'll probably use Leuk****ae****mia but it may have switched for the first couple of chapters. **

Carlisle: 30

Esme: 30

Emmett: 9

Rosalie: 8

Jasper: 7

Edward: 6

Alice: 5

EsmePOV

On Monday, I took Edward and Alice in my car to the hospital and Carlisle went in his car, via the school where he dropped off Rose, Emmett and Jasper. He pulled up in the carpark about five minutes after me.

"Hey, remind me why Alice isn't at school, honey?"

"Because Alice has an orthodontist appointment in Seattle at two o'clock, Carlisle, and it's easier that I pull her out for the whole day."

"Okay, right, I knew that. I'll walk you to the general practitioners' area, if you want. My shift starts in ten minutes."

"No, that's okay," I said, kissing his cheek. "Bye, honey."

It was a short walk across the car park, and though I clutched Alice's hand in mine I let Edward walk ahead. I checked a small piece of paper that I had scribbled down notes on when I had booked the appointment. _Dr Lucy Martin, 9.20am. At about ten take Alice and Edward to Seattle. Do a bit of shopping. Have lunch. Take Alice to the orthodontist. Be home by five. Pick up kids from library (they should go there after school). NOTE: pick up pasta sheets for lasagne. Jasper's turn to help cook. _

I look up to see Edward's wandered about ten metres in front. "Edward!" I called, "this is a carpark, not a playground! Get back here!"

He turned and stopped but didn't bother to go any closer to me. He rubbed his eyes and said, "Hurry _up_, Mommy."

Alice was wearing a white dress which she tugged on nervously. "Mummy, is Edward in trouble?"

"No, no," I said, catching up to Edward. "Just remember Allie, no running in a carpark." We walk the last few steps in silence, then I pulled open the door and the familiar smell of medical centres overwhelmed me. I smiled briefly. The waiting room was small, maybe ten chairs and a box of toys in the corner.

"Toys?" Alice asked. "Mummy, can I play with the toys?"

I stared at the white plastic box for a moment. "No, Alice, don't touch the toys." I sat Alice down on one of the chair, her legs dangled in thin air. "Edward, sit next to Alice."

I was sorely tempted to pick up one of the magazines, but refrained myself for the same reason I told Alice not to touch the toys. I didn't know how many sick people had skimmed through them. It was then I noticed a woman in a blue knitted jumper, sitting with a smallish child.

"Hi," she greeted me. "My name is Melinda Catt, I'm Veronica's sister."

"Veronica...?" I questioned, although I knew the answer. There was only one Veronica is town.

"Veronica Jones. She lives next door to the Webber family."

"Ah, yes." I nodded. "She has a partner and twin daughters, Candy and Harriet."

"Yes!" Melinda beamed. "I hail from Manhattan, but me and Johnny here are down for the week. Johnny seems to have picked up a fever."

"How old is Johnny?" I enquired.

"Guess." Melinda grinned. "I'll give you a hint- between two and twenty."

"Seven," I guessed. He was roughly Jasper's height, with a pinched face and matted brown hair.

The woman laughed, throwing back her head. "Actually, he's ten next month!" I flushed and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry," I apologized. "My name is Esme Cullen. This is my daughter, Alice, and my son, Edward."

"You have just the two?" Melinda asked. "I do. My husband is thirty eight, Johnny here's nine and Terrence, my youngest, is seven."

"Lovely," I said. "Alice here is five, Edward's six, then I have Jasper, who's seven, Rosalie, eight, and Emmett, nine. Oh, yes, and my husband, he's thirty."

Melinda's mouth hung open. Luckily she was saved by a woman a little older then I was. "Mrs Catt, Mrs Melinda Catt? And Jonathon Catt?"

"Here," Melinda said, getting to here feet and dropping a _Vogue_ magazine. "Are you Lucy Martin?"

"Yes," the brunette woman said, shepherding the mother and son into her office.

Half an hour later, at nine thirty, Mrs Catt and her son left with a prescription. Doctor Lucy Martin smiled at me. "Mrs Cullen, it is a pleasure to finally meet you properly. Please call me Lucy."

"Doc Martin," I grinned, unable to resist. "Good to meet you too."

"Original," Lucy sighed, but she winked at me. "Now, our young patient is…?"

"This one," I gently pushed Edward forward. "This is Edward. The girl is Alice, my youngest."

Lucy nodded and showed us into her small office. "Take a seat, everybody." We obeyed, Alice sat on the floor.

"So… what symptoms has Edward been exhibiting?" Lucy questioned me.

"Bruising." I said immediately. "He's been tired a lot, which he never used to be." Edward chose that moment to yawn, illustrating my point.

"Used to be?" Lucy said, leaning forward in her chair. "Mrs Cullen, what exactly do you mean?"

"Oh, well that started about two weeks ago. I didn't really think much of it, actually, I thought it was just with school starting again, but when I noticed a bruise…"

"When did you notice the first bruise, Mrs Cullen?"

"Friday. Friday evening, at the dinner table."

She continued to question me and as the clocked ticked over from half past to quarter to I began to think this may be a little more serious then I first thought. Finally, Lucy Martin said, "I'm just going to need to take a blood sample. Is that okay, Mrs Cullen?"

"Yes," I said, but I was a little concerned. A, they needed a blood test not a simple check up type thing and B, how was my six year old going to react to a needle? In fact, how was my five year old going to react to a needle? "Alice, why don't you go sit in the waiting room, poppet."

"No." Alice shook her head violently. "Allie stays with Mummy."

"Mommy," Edward corrected.

"Daddy says Mummy," Alice argued, her tiny face puckering.

"Daddy's British," I intervened. "You're both right. Allie, go sit in the waiting room."

"No," Alice shouted. "No, no, NO!"

"_Alice Cullen_," I scolded. "I am so sorry, Doctor Martin."

"That's quite all right. Alice, if you go out in the waiting room, I'll give you a jellybean."

Edward was not quite as well behaved as I'd have liked him to be. He kicked and screamed and squirmed. Eventually he even started to cry. It took me a few minutes to quieten him, during which Lucy Martin sent the blood to the labs across the compound. "What we're testing for won't take long, maybe an hour at the most. The results could be quite serious, so it may be for the best if you hung around."

"Quite serious?" I questioned, worried.

"It's probably nothing," she assured me. "Just with symptoms like that we want to be as safe as possible."

"As safe as possible," I repeated, gently touching the fluro yellow band-aid Dr Martin has stuck on my son's arm.

Half an hour later a trainee doctor on work experience and a woman fairly senior in the hospital hierarchy entered Lucy's office. The trainee was holding Alice's hand. He led Alice over to me while the woman spoke in low tones to Lucy, her words punctuated with medical terms, then names and place names. _Haematology, hickman line, ATRA, diagnosis, lab error, possibilities, Seattle, Doctor Felicity Staker, hospital team, child patient, relapse, remission, confirmation, Washington, Seattle, Cullen._

Finally Lucy turned to me, "Mrs Cullen, the team up in the labs discovered some abnormalities in the blood sample taken. We would like to take another sample, but we think that even if we confirm our suspicions we don't have adequate facilities to deal to it, so we want you to go to the Seattle Children's Hospital. We've contacted them and booked an appointment for three o'clock."

"I was going to go to Seattle anyway," I said. "Alice has an appointment at the orthodontist."

The trio of medical workers exchange glances. The trainee decides to speak first. "Mrs Cullen, although this is probably not at all serious, if it is serious then it is _very_ serious."

"What do you mean?" I said my tone wary. "What's going on?"

"Your son… no, look, we don't want to worry you over nothing. Just go to the appointment, you'll find out everything there."

"Okay," I agreed. "Nothing, right? Probably nothing?" But my voice is too high and it cracks on the last word. "Come on, kids, Ed, Allie. We've got a bit of a drive ahead of us."

"Bags front!" Edward yelled, "Shotgun!"

"No," I said firmly. "Both of you are in the back. Now, what do you say?"

"Thank you, Doctor Martin." The children chorused.

Lucy smiled and gave them each a pill bottle full of jellybeans. I grabbed Edward's had and put an arm around Alice's shoulder. Together we walked to the car. I buckled Alice into a toddler car seat- she was to small for anything else. Edward grumbled a little and climbed over her to his seat. I slid into the driver's seat.

My Lexus roared to life and backed past Carlisle's Mercedes to the exit and then pulled out onto the road.

Two hours into I Spy I was spying my temper rising. "I spy something beginning with E," Edward said.

"Edward," I said immediately. He had already pulled this one on us twice.

"No." he said, grinning. "This one is really good, Mom, you'll never guess it."

"Egg!" Alice shrieked as we passed a sign advertising free range eggs as opposed to battery laid.

"No, no."

"Engine," I guessed randomly as I overtook a small blue car.

"Close. It's a car part."

"Eat," Alice said.

"Eat? _Eat? _Eat isn't a car part. It's a… it's a…"

"Verb." I supplied, unsure whether it actually was or not. I had never excelled in English class. "I give up." I admitted, knowing it would probably turn out to be something ridiculous.

"You do? Allie, do you give up?"

"Yeah," Alice said, tilting her head and smiling. "Alice gives up."

"Accelerator!" Edward grinned triumphantly. "I told you you'd never guess it, didn't I?"

"Yes, honey, it was very good." I didn't bother to point out the 'accelerator' started with an 'a' not an 'e.'

We had arrived at Seattle at one thirty and I'd brought Edward and Alice McDonalds for lunch. Then at two we'd gone to the orthodontist for Alice, then to a playground and finally at three we'd arrived at the hospital. It was now three forty and two worried nurses were whispering to the doctor in front of me. "My name is Doctor Alfred Williams," he introduced himself. "We, like the team at Forks, have found some abnormalities in the blood sample we took from your son. As both tests returned with abnormalities, I would like to send you over to a specialist, our resident haematologist, Doctor Franklin Smith."

"Okay," I mumbled, but inside I felt like saying _you have got to be kidding me. _I came for a simple prescription, and I get this. Doctor Williams handed me a small slip of paper. "Because your son in not a patient here, there will be a wee bit more paperwork to do then usual, but if you are willing, we will register your child or, if you want, children."

"Yes, please."

"Okay, and don't worry, there won't be anything to pay on registration, although the blood tests and any subsequent treatment will be billed to you."

"Right," I said. "I can cope with that." Dr Williams handed me a small slip of paper and a map.

_Doctor Franklin Smith, Lillian Webb Memorial Building, Fourth floor, Office 3. Haematology/Oncology _

"What _is _haematology?" I asked.

"It is the study of blood and blood diseases."

"Why is it with oncology? Oncology's…"

"Cancer," Doctor Williams finished sympathetically for me. "I know, Mrs Cullen."

"My name is Franklin Smith." He had already introduced himself twice, so I frowned.

"Doctor Smith, you've already told me that."

"Huh? Oh, sorry, dear. I've been working at an Alzheimer's ward in Illinois for a month, I've gotten used to introducing myself every conversation."

"Oh." I mumbled. Doctor Smith was Canadian, but he'd lived in the US for sixteen years an average height man, about an inch taller then me. He had a cheerful smile, salt and pepper hair and always carried around a pipe, though he never used it. Instead of the traditional white coat he was dressed in a blue and brown hand knitted jumper and denim jeans.

"Well, Mrs Cullen, we've got the tests back." His tone had changed from jovial to serious, and I knew it wasn't mocking or joking. "Unfortunately, like the other tests suggested, there are abnormalities. We think it is leukaemia."

"Leukaemia is… leukaemia is cancer." I spluttered, my eyes wide. I looked over to where my son was playing with my daughter. He passed her a puppet from a toy box and looked over at me, grinning. His bronze hair tussled, his eyes bright. Cancer didn't affect six year children, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Cancer affected menopausal woman, divorced middle aged men and elderly who are all ready drawing near the end of their days.

"I know, I know," Doctor Smith whispered. "Leukaemia is the name of blood cancer as a whole, but it's not a specific label. We believe Edward has APL, Acute

Promyelocytic Leukaemia."

"Oh, God," I whispered, raking my fingers through my hair and dropping my head. "Is… is my son going to…"

"Die?" Dr Smith finished.

"Yes," I said, my poker face crumbling.

"At this stage, everything is a possibility. The cancer is not so advanced it's untreatable, Mrs Cullen. I want to remind you, APL has a very high cure rate, around seventy percent of people are cured or sent into controlled, permanent remission."

"I don't understand. What happens now?"

"Well, for APL patients, we use a combined treatment of a relative of vitamin A, all-trans retinoic acid, commonly known as ATRA, and low dose or medium dose chemotherapy, most like an anthracycline, such as daunorubicin and idarubicin.

"We hope for a complete remission, but should it fail to occur then we can look into other options and asses the drugs that are being used. Do you understand all of this?"

"No," I said, feeling faint.

"Okay, Edward will be given tablets and chemotherapy. This should put him into remission but if it doesn't we will reassess what works and what doesn't. Do you want to meet your sons newly assembled cancer team?"

On the team is Amanda, a nurse who specialises with the cancer ward, 'Dimples' who's real name is Anne, or Annie, and who is also a nurse; Sasha, a young male nurse from New York City, Belinda, a psychiatrist who is young and pretty with long brown hair and pale green eyes, Joseph Land a paediatrician and Nathaniel, a doctor/oncologist from Wisconsin.

Amanda has blonde hair just hasp her shoulders and it is straight as can be. She has perfect skin and manicured nails but isn't afraid of dirt or gore. Dimples's hair is curly and chocolate brown and come down to just above her shoulders. She has bright blue eyes and a big smile. Sasha has olive skin and black hair and an accent that hints at an Italian upbringing, but he says he was born in New York and only spent two years in Italy. Belinda tells me that his parents are Italian, though, which explains his looks. Joseph is also young like the rest, maybe thirty five pr so. He has brown hair and could be a male model. So could Nathaniel, with his light brown hair and dead straight nose.

I spent two hours filling out paper work, and some of the questions were absurd. _Did your child ever encounter a runaway farm animal? What were your child's first SEVEN words? Has you son/daughter been sick of school for more then five consecutive days before? If so, which semester was it during?_

My answers to those questions were _No; Mom, Dad, Cat, Rosie, Emmett, No, Jazz; no._

At five fifty, the team finished helping me with paperwork and entertaining the kids. They took me down two floors to a children's cancer ward for kids undergoing maintenance chemo or who were partially relapsed or waiting for operations. All of these kids were mildly ill, but at easy points in their journeys. The team said they have seen most of these kids go through the extremes.

There were nineteen kids in the room. Only five of them were not bald, a little girl with short blonde hair, twins seven year old boys with cropped black hair, an eleven year old girl with waist length brown hair and a boy, nine or so with patches just starting to grow back.

The room was set up for twenty children, painted with murals of grass lawns and flowers, with the upper walls and ceiling painted like the sky on a sunny day. One of the beds was empty. My stomach twisted, _is this were my son will be? Or will he be down the halls in ICU? _A final thought, hot on the heels of the other two: _Will he be here at all, will he die?_

"That bed was Amy Madeline's." Amanda said quietly to me. "She was an ALL patient, her twin sister AML. The twins' younger sister, Bethany, is fine, no cancer, nothing."

"What happened to that little girl?" I whispered. "What happened to her twin?"

"Amy's twin died early in the morning four weeks back, due to a severe infection. Her name was Kara."

"And Amy?"

Amanda shrugged. "This ward is only for children four to twelve. Amy turned thirteen and was moved away. She's in remission at the moment."

A thought crosses my mind. "Four to twelve… all my children could be in this ward."

Amanda turns to me. "Hey, Esme, don't think like that. How many children do you have?"

"Five. Edward and Alice, then Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett."

"Have you tested the others?"

"Huh?"

"Have the others been tested?"

"What for?" I ask, terrified something is going to pop up.

"To be donors! If one of your other kids is a genetic match for Edward, then that opens up a whole new range of treatments available."

"I'm not following, Amanda."

"Didn't Doctor Smith tell you anything? Ugh! Come on, Esme! Nathaniel, show Edward his bed. Belinda! Take Alice to the playroom."

"No!" I cried out. "No, Manda, no, no, no. I want my children with me right now."

"_Esme._"

At six thirty three the call came. I was sitting in a small room just off the children's ward. One way glass allowed me to see in, and I was watching Edward play with two bald children, a girl and a boy. I picked up my cellphone to hear the frantic voice of my husband. "Esme! Are you all right? Where are you? Why aren't you home? Do you have any idea how worried I've been? The kids were at the library for _two hours_, you didn't call, you didn't text, all Lucy Martin could tell me was that you'd left around ten! Esme? Esme?"

"Carlisle," I said softly, then stopped. What was I meant to say? What was I meant to _do_?

"Esme, thank God, where are you?"

"Seattle." I said, unthinkingly. "Seattle, Seattle."

"Esme… Esme are you leaving me?"

"What?!" I cried out, horrified. "No! Why would you think that?"

"Because you aren't here. You just vanished with two of our children."

"No," I gasped. "I need you here. Now. Get… get the kids, warm clothes, pack a change of two changes of clothes for _everyone_ and a pair of pyjamas each. Bring… bring the teddies." Rose and Emmett no longer slept with teddy bears, but the younger three did.

"Where should I come too?"

"Seattle children's hospital." I said, close to tears. "Lillian Webb Memorial Building. Floor Two. Children's Cancer Ward six."

"Esme? Esme what's going on?"

"I don't know," I whispered bitterly, a tear tickling down my cheek. "I don't know."

**Whaddya think?! Review? PLEASE?**


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a while. A long while. I edited this myself, so probably a few mistakes. **

ESMEPOV

"We're very sorry, Mrs Cullen," the woman in front of me said. "This has all been a terrible mix-up."

For a moment my heart seemed to falter, before beating faster, hopes rose. A mix up… was it possible…?

"There seems to have been a lot of confusion regarding your arrival at Seattle Children's Hospital. For a start, the doctor who you talked to was a resident, Dr Smith, and is about as much use as a camel to a family who just had a child diagnosed with a potentially fatal illness. The whole affair was not handled as it should have been. I would suggest that since your entire family is here at the moment that we stay here for tonight and re-evaluate everything in the morning." My heart sank with each word she spoke. Of course the mix-up hadn't been the diagnosis.

Carlisle nodded. "Of course, Doctor Staker."

"Where are the kids right now?" I asked, feeling a little uncomfortable about the fact that my son's life was in the hands of a medical team who had just admitted to making a mistake.

"The older three are having a private room, room 118, set up. Edward and Alice are in the room which will be Edward's should he start chemo tomorrow or at any time during the next month, but I think Alice is staying in the other kids' room. The kids have been fed and seeing as it's nine o'clock I think you should think about getting them into bed. We've set up an adjoining room that connects to Edward's for you two, and you can get through Edward's room to the other room."

"Thanks," I said. "I'll go put the kids to bed. Carlisle…?"

"I want to stay and talk to Dr Staker for a moment." He seemed tired and defeated so I nodded and left without protest.

I knocked lightly on the door to room one hundred and eighteen, the friendly night-nurse who'd given me directions smiling sadly. "Hey, Rosie," I whispered when she opened the door. "Is everyone awake?"

"Yeah," she whispered back, glancing down the dimly lit corridor. "Edward and Alice are in a different room, though."

"I know," I said, smiling at Rosalie. Everything seemed so surreal that it wasn't hard to ignore what was going on and smile. "It's time for bed, sweetie. Let me in."

Rosalie stepped back from the doorway and I walked into the room, shutting the door behind me. Emmett was playing solitaire and Jasper was reading a book. "Hey, it's bedtime," I murmured.

The room was about the size of my bedroom at home, and there was one bed against each of the four walls, leaving just enough space for the three doors, one that I had just entered by, one that led to a bathroom and the other that led to the adjoining room. "You're all in your pyjamas, good."

Emmett packed up the cards without complaint and the three kids slid into their beds unusually quietly. I slipped into Edward's room to find he was already asleep, Alice was squatting by the bed playing with a Barbie doll from God knows where. "Hey, Allie, put the doll down now," I whispered, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Come on, sweetheart, it's time for bed."

"No," Alice pouted.

"Yes," I replied, putting on a stern expression.

"No," Alice said, shaking a fist at me and dropping the Barbie.

"Yes, don't argue with Mommy, she's too tired to argue back and stop being silly. You wouldn't want your friends at school to see you like this, would you, Allie? Having a temper tantrum and screaming at your Mommy while your brother is trying to sleep?"

Alice hung her head. "I'm coming, Mummy."

"Mommy," I smiled.

"Mummy."

I took her hand and led her back to Room 118, where Rose was already half-asleep. Tucking Alice in, I kissed her forehead. Then I tucked in Rose and Jasper. I perched at the end of Emmett's bed. "What's going on with Edward?" he asked.

"Uh," I stalled, glancing around at the others, who were all keenly awake at the mention of their brother. "Edward's a little sick right now," I said, trying to make the explanation understandable for Alice. "We all have to be here because it will be a while until Edward's better, and we want him to have lots and lots of support."

Emmett stared at me for a moment. "Mom…?"

"The doctors and nurses will explain the rest tomorrow," I said hurriedly. "Goodnight Alice, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie."

"Goodnight," they chorused.

I tip-toed into Edward's room, where he was lightly snoring. I smiled as I watched him toss, but the smile wavered and a tear trickled down my cheek. The door to Edward's room opened and Carlisle crept in, standing at the foot of his son's bed. His eyes met mine. "For better and for worse," he reminded me.

I smiled bitterly. "In sickness and in health."

Back at Doctor Staker's office two sleepy-eyed members of my son's hours old medical team were waiting. Doctor Staker herself was sharp and wide awake. "Mrs Cullen, the team have decided on a standard approach to your son's treatment. They'll start with a bone-marrow aspiration at eleven tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? So soon?"

"Yes, the sooner the better. Unless," Doctor Staker leant in, "unless, Mrs Cullen, you don't want your son to receive medical treatment?"

I know what chemotherapy is meant to be like. My mother's friend was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was about my age. My mother had often taken me along to see this woman, and I had watched as chemo took its toll. But it was treatment. It could mean a cure. The words that next came out of my mouth didn't seem to belong to me. "Doctor Staker, if we chose not to treat leukaemia, then what would happen?"

"Edward would have maybe a few months? He would be very sick and most likely in pain, it would be an unpleasant end, however the long road to recovery would also be upsetting. While this decision is partially up to you and your husband, it is ultimately your son's decision and if he wants treatment and you and you husband disagree, then the medical board would rule in your child's favour- after all, his survival is what this is all about."

"Right," I said. "Right."

"Mrs Cullen, you do want your son to have treatment, don't you?" Dr Staker frowned and I had a feeling that her opinion of me had dropped considerably. "Mrs Cullen?"

"I… I don't want him to suffer."

"He will suffer either way but this way he has a chance to live! When- if- he survives, he has a whole life! If you go the other way death is a certainty."

"I know," I whispered.

"You have to make your mind up quite soon, you know."

"I know," I replied. "I already have."

"What's your decision?" Dr Staker was staring at me intently, the two other members of the medical team holding their breath.

"I… I don't want him to…"

**Please review. PLEASE! **


	5. Chapter 5

CPOV

They did the bone marrow aspiration the very next day, at eleven in the morning. Esme stayed in the hospital, watching through the glass windows while I took the other four kids to a small mall.

The minute we'd sat down I'd zoned out.

"Dad? Dad? Dad!" Emmett's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

"What's really going on?"

I sighed, glancing around. We were sitting at a plastic white table by a tiny ice cream parlour, Rose slurping at her milkshake and Emmett licking the ice cream tub he'd just finished. I spotted Jazz and Alice at the window to a closed toy store and relaxed. "I guess you've figured out that this is pretty serious."

Rose cracked a smile, but her expression was bitter. "Yeah, we know."

"You remember dinner on Friday…?"

"Baked potatoes," Emmett said immediately.

I smiled, "Funny, but you remember the bruise Edward had on his arm?"

Rose nodded but Emmett looked as though he was genuinely struggling to think of anything past the food. "Yeah," he said finally, but it was plain he didn't remember.

I swallowed. "You remember Edward didn't go to swimming on Saturday because he was sick?"

This time they both nodded. "Esme- Mum- took Edward to the doctors. They sent him to Seattle for further testing and they've come up positive for Leukaemia."

"What's Leukaemia?" Rosalie asked immediately, eyes flickering from me to Emmett, who'd turned bone white.

"Rose…" he said weakly, "leukaemia is cancer."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Rosalie turned to me for confirmation. "It's true, honey. Edward's been diagnosed with blood cancer, known as leukaemia. The type of leukaemia he has is Acute Promyelocytic Leukaemia." I paused, staring at my clasped hands.

"What's… what's going to happen now?" Rosalie was staring at me in horror. "I mean… can they treat it? Cancer has, you know, chemotherapy, right? But… sometimes it doesn't work, like you remember Catelyn Bowlimb, don't you? She'd be… she'd be twenty now, but she got sick just after I was born and she died when she was seventeen. There was a discussion at school about it last week and they said she had a… a brain tumour and she wasn't okay! What'll happen if-"

"Rosalie," Emmett said quietly, the first time I'd heard him use her full name is nearly a year. She shut her mouth, eyes focused on my face, and I looked behind her to a glass window where my reflection stared back. I was white as a ghost, and shaking slightly.

"Dad…" Rose trailed off. "I'm sorry, he won't die… I mean, he can't, right, he's six years old."

I sighed. "Rosalie, Emmett, he'll probably get through this… but we've been given the actual statistics. In the last five months there _has_ been a seventy percent success rate in curing children with APL, or at least sending them into remission… but, in total, there's only a twenty percent success rate. Your brother will, most likely, survive this-"

"Hah!" Emmett said, and pounded the table, but the grin that had just appeared on Rose's face slipped off slowly as she looked at me.

"But…?" Because, of course, there is always a but.

"But even with a remission the doctors think he only has two or so years left. No one thinks he'll live beyond age nine."

There was a short, shocked silence. Emmett, with his lack of tact, broke it. "_I'm _nine."

It was those two words that nearly brought me to tears. A contraction and a number. I had five children, and one of them was not meant to live to the age of the oldest. "What are we going to do?" Rose asked.

"For now, we're going to stay at the hospital for another night. We need to run tests on you two and Jazz and Allie, just in case. If everything comes up negative then Edward is going to stay at the hospital with Esme or me and the other one of us will take you four back home and to school."

"What?" Emmett yelled, causing a passer by to stop and stare.

"We're just going to go home?" Rose asked angrily. "Just leave him here?"

"Rosalie, mainly he'll be in isolation or otherwise far away. You and the others will just be miserable and bored with nothing to take your mind off things. This way you'll all have a distraction, school, and you'll be able to sleep in your own beds and eat healthy non canteen food."

"Where'd Jazz go?" Emmett asked, twisting in his seat and looking around. "I can't see Alice either."

Forty minutes later everyone was seated at a mall security office while I filed missing child reports- where the kids had gone missing from, how long they'd been missing and where and when we'd found them. The jovial security guard was sitting behind his desk. "Y'know, we used to just let parents walk out with their kids, but ooooh, no, not anymore. Apparently everyone needs to write out half an hour's worth of paperwork just so someone else has to do overtime to file it just so no one will ever read it. Waste of time if you ask me."

"Mmf," I agreed, looking up at the myriad of family photos on the desk and walls. Some of them appeared to be nieces and nephews, but there was a picture of the security guard at what appeared to be his wedding and later shots of him with a pregnant wife and then kids. I did a quick count. "You have four children?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, "Well, my wife's in her second trimester with our fourth anyway. We've got two boys, eight and five and a four year old girl. We're having another boy. I think four'll be enough," he glanced at the children seated behind me. "You have four too?"

I blinked distractedly. "Oh, yes, this is my daughter Rosalie," I gestured to her. "And there's little Alice and the boys are Emmett and Jasper."

"Having four kids is nice," the man nodded.

"Oh," I said. "I have five."

It was the security guard's, Trevor's (as his name tag read), turn to look surprised. "Where's the other little one? With your missus?"

"Uh, yeah," I scribbled down the last few sentences on the final sheet of paper. "He's in hospital."

"Oh, God," the guard said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I murmured. "It's not your fault."

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking…?"

I looked up and met his eyes. He seemed truly sympathetic and not just curious. "He's got cancer," I said. It was the first time I'd admitted it to a stranger, and, although at the time it didn't seem it, a life changing experience. My family would cease to be the Cullens, and become the poor family of the dying child. In the eyes of strangers, and even acquaintances, Edward would no longer be Edward; he would be the little boy with cancer.

EsmePOV

I stood at the window, rocking back and forth as the nurses and doctors huddled around my son, wheeling him out of sight. I blinked back tears and turned away.

_I… I don't want him to… _

_What's your decision?_

_I… I don't want him to…_

_You don't want your son to receive medical treatment?_

_I… I don't want him to… _

_If we chose not to treat…?_

_A few months…_

_Very sick… in pain…_

_His survival…_

_I… I don't want him to…_

A whimper escaped my lips. My mind was flinging my words back at me like knives. Had I honestly considered not giving him life-saving treatments? I had asked for all the options, yes, in case there was anything that sounded better then weeks of nausea, skin problems, bowel problems, weight gain, fevers, no appetite and feeling down all round, but deep down I knew I could never deny any of my children life-saving medication.

_You have to make your mind up quite soon, you know. _

_I know, I already have._

_What's your decision?_

_I… I don't want him to… die… of course I don't… I… _

I stared at the clock on the wall. How was it that twenty four hours ago I had just left Forks? How was it that fourteen hours ago I'd been asked if I wanted my son to live or die? How was it that I'd nearly said die?

**A/N Ok, not my best chapter, but it's up so whatever. I could do with a beta, so if anyone wants to offer that would be appreciated (you don't have to be a grammar whizz, just picking up spelling mistakes would be good). **


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